Dreamboat

Wet blue parking lot
Packed tight with boats
From dinghy to yacht
Moored to weathered grey docking

Lined by flashy gift shops
With touristy fare
Coffee houses
And seafood restaurants

Attracting small and moseying crowds

In the hot sun I ambled
Along the walkway
Gazing out at the maritime scene

While I toyed with the thought
Not the first time
Of living on a boat

Moored to a slip
Or out at sea
Or a combination of both

I scanned the harbor
Gazing down the line
Looking for the one

Just one

That would fit

Not a speed boat
Or a fishing boat
But a sail boat

The right size
shape and character

I found her at last
A gal named Sarita
40 feet of not quite gleaming
Not brand new
Wooden decks

With sea foam green sail
And whitewashed hull

Pretty

Without being showy
Sturdy and capable
Without all the muscle

I stood there for I don’t know
How long
Just watching her

Imagined myself on board

Pictured myself living
Within her simple, clean lines

Big enough for one
To live expansively
And two to live
In comfort

I left the harbor
Went back home
But still I think of Sarita

With her simple, clean lines

When I close my eyes
And dream

In comfort
Sailing Sarita